careless breath
by TFRiD Queen
Summary: a startlingly selfish breath / longing, drowning, hurting / a careless breath that lost everything / with every regret, the pain constricts me (Sio x Adam); sexual themes and strong language, mature content in chapters 10 and 12.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story was originally a series of posts that I put onto my Tumblr (shooter-nobunagun), however as it's still not the best place for chaptered stories, I am re-posting them here for ease of access and readability.

* * *

The light is harsh, almost too brightly artificial, even though she knows it is meant to give the crew a feeling of nature. But what could be natural about the undersea surface, the constant wavering of blueish-white glows, hovering with each and every wave? The climate control…constant circulation of recycled air, and although it is maintained at a habitable 70 degrees Fahrenheit, she still feels a chill as the Commander stares down from her post.

"Miss Nobunagun. Have you come to a decision yet?" The steel of her voice, the unwavering glint in her eye; almost two millennia old, and yet, nobody dares to question her judgement. Behind her St. Germain stands, always in her shadow, never overstepping his boundaries yet he sees and knows all. Beyond that it is just the alien DOGOO, its appearance strangely comical, yet eerie, at the same time.

They are all waiting. Each pair of eyes, never blinking nor wavering from her own gaze, the crew having cleared out for once, leaving behind just her and the top of the command chain. It is unsettlingly quiet—no clicks of the keyboards, no frantic commands, no background chatter.

Just.

Silence.

Her own breathing has never seemed so loud, nor her heartbeat so strong. For a second, she wishes that the rest of her platoon is present, for even if they could do nothing more but stand in silence as well, at least their physical presence, their support, would bolster her. But this is just between her and them; Sio Ogura and the Commander. She clenches her hands into fists, and time seems to slow as she focuses solely on that question.

___Your decision…_

Yes, that decision…the one she is not supposed to know about, but of course she finds out. And it unravels her, knocks something loose in her…the chain of events that has happened since then something that she had not dared to think back before now, but that one question…

"…Sio. We need…an answer…" Is that a tremble in her voice? Surely it must be a trick of her imagination, trying to convince her that somewhere, somehow, the Commander still remembers the feeling of empathy.

Surely they can't know…the things that have happened since…and now her mind is tricking her again, because suddenly she can feel him, taste him, even smell him…

_…____soft, snow-white hair, each strand wispy and fine as it brushes her cheek and she resists the urge to laugh, because it tickles and she is afraid she will not able to maintain her composure, not when he is tracing a single finger down, down, down…_

Her mouth opens and she is surprised at her own voice, because her mind is still elsewhere, still feeling that finger…

"My answer…"

It is an odd feeling, to be in two places at once. Sio Ogura, the e-gene holder of Oda Nobunaga and codenamed 'Nobunagun', is standing before the command who is waiting on her reply.

Sio Ogura, the girl, is sprawled on a mess of crumpled sheets, her uniform all but shed, skin burning as he touches her ever so gently, her mind becoming undone just by that single, heated digit as it hesitates, then pushes deep inside…

Her eyes close and the memories rush forward.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jack. You should give it a rest…I don't think pacing around the room, alternating your step by every other foot for every two rotations, is going to make this meeting go by any faster." The movement stops, but he doesn't bother to look up. No, in fact, he does not bother with any sort of response at all.

Not that the Indian is expecting anything in return. He has been here long enough, known the Englishman long enough to be aware of when he is just about to reach that breaking limit, and when he is pushing too far, whereupon the silver-haired holder will either leave in a soundless rage, or, more rarely, turn upon him with a single fist to the gut.

"That's enough, Gandhi…" For once Newton plays the role of peacekeeper, even thought that is usually reserved for the other—the Barrier Guy. Peacekeeper. Playboy. A mismatched mess of terms, all describing the same person, as unlikely as it seems. She tries to maintain her composure, to keep that already-suffocating tension from completely choking them, but he isn't fooled—not by the words that come so unnaturally from her usually carefree voice, and certainly not by the way her hands tremble as she attempts to pour three cups of tea.

They are only trying to help him, he knows this—for all of the hell and tragedies this platoon has suffered, they are still a team—no, a ___family_. And perhaps to just the two of them, in his mind—they are something so much more than just that.

___So why didn't she say anything?_

That thought alone has haunted him for countless days now, is still haunting him, whether he is conscious or unconscious, or even trying to make any sense of it at all…a part of him is furious that they have been denied an audience as well, but he knows logically that it is for their own good, lest he activates his AU weapon and crash his way in, stealing her away…

…Like she steals his innocence; no, would it be considered stealing? Is something considered to be a theft, when both parties are willing, and yet the premise is based off lies? Yes and no, both, maybe, partially…he has asked himself this question until every route is exhausted, every possible answer comes up, but it leaves him unsatisfied. Perhaps there is no answer; but he is determined to find one anyway.

___The answer, Adam Muirhead, a.k.a. Jack the Ripper, also Florence Nightingale, is not one you make on your own…that is why you will never find it like this._

He hates it when it talks to him like that, his ___other self…_not truly a full personality, but enough so that it makes him doubt his own decisions, time and time again. A single emerald, glinting off what little light flows through the porthole, and he suddenly sits down, tea already fast heading towards lukewarm.

It is not something he can control…these precarious thoughts, feelings…

_…____for as inexperienced as he is, as they both are…he still learns fast, can quickly adapt to what gives her the most pleasure, how slow he can pull back to keep her on that precarious edge, crying and begging, or how fast he needs to go to have her screaming in pure ecstasy…_

The story begins, he realizes as he tastes the tepid liquid, funnily enough not with either of them; in fact, it does not even begin with their platoon at all, but with another member that happens to share the same space aboard the ___Alex Logan_.

Antoni Gaudí is not a bad child, by any means—he may be the youngest e-gene holder, but he pulls his own weight on the battlefield, and then some. No, it is simply just unfortunate, or maybe just the natural course of things, for an adolescent boy to be curious and exploratory beyond what might be considered necessary means. As far as he can piece together, from what little his platoon can extract from the tight-lipped, reluctant Princess and her Servant, it had been entirely an accident. Not on purpose.

Done so only out of good faith and well-meaning intentions.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Chapter 3 and onwards (until the last chapter) will be set in past-tense.

* * *

"Aww, come on, really? You'd think after all these articles, they'd finally get my name right—for the last time, it's Anto___ni_, not Antoni___o_…damn it." A sigh escaped his lips as the youngest e-gene holder (so far, anyway), the reincarnation of famed Spanish architect Antoni Gaudí stalked down the lengthy hallway aboard the ___Clayton Forrester_, latest newspaper in hand; maybe the only good thing about a hard battle was the Commander having granted them a brief respite for half a day to rest before being sent back up to the ___Alex Logan_.

Not that Gaudí really cared either way—he was fine with being anywhere, as long as he could have his own space and spare time to work on his hobby—no, it was not, as Cyx had joked, trading those swimsuit photos of Sio Ogura—but rather, much like his inherited soul, the boy enjoyed building things. Paper crafts, lego sets, those Gundam garage kits that Miss Nobunagun had kindly brought back from Japan…one time, out of sheer boredom, he'd even constructed an entire miniature cathedral out of toothpicks, before St. Germain, mistaking it for a pile of garbage, tossed it unceremoniously into the compost bin. He'd been quite upset for some time afterwards, until Geronimo and Cyx surprised him with a model kit for a to-scale, miniature version of the Sagrada Família. While they never outright bullied him, he was more often than not at the butt end of their jokes, and little more than a mere gopher to the rest of the senior holders; their display of genuine affection, or at least some form of kindness, was something not given easily.

Which was the exact reason the boy was now looking for those very two women, who were sometimes like two very annoying older sisters, sometimes like his mom, but above all, two very important teammates. Perhaps something as trivial as getting his name wrong was nothing to be in a fuss over…but, it couldn't hurt, right? He remembered the first time a major article had been published on all the known holders so far, and poor Esui's name was spelled at least three different ways on the same paper, and all them wrong. That was when he swore to himself to never, ever, get on the blonde's bad side.

"Uh, hello? Geronimo, Cyx? Are you guys in here?" Peeking into the strangely empty conference center, he was expecting both of them, or at least Geronimo, to be finalizing the report details, but either he was very early, or they were taking longer than he'd thought. Eh, well, couldn't hurt to wait a bit and see if anybody showed up… scooting around the overly-wide conference table, he sprawled face-down on the cool surface, arms outstretched. His fingertips brushed just against a sheet of paper, suddenly bringing to his attention the stray document.

"Huh, what's this…" He casually slid it in front of him, eyes glancing at the tons of fine print that was probably just a bunch of legal mumbo-jumbo that he never bothered to understand—

_—____planned transfer of 'Nobunagun' to specialized squad aboard the Steven Hiller—_

The words seemed to jump out among the black ink, his eyes widening considerably as he attempted to re-read the line. Suddenly, any and all lethargy that the boy had been nursing disappeared in a flash, replaced by a panicked shock that sent a wave of adrenaline through his veins. It didn't concern him, true, but with the First and Second platoons sharing the same ship, he'd come to enjoy getting to know the sniper, and besides, a shift in squad arrangements was very rare, if at all possible; the initial assignment was always taken very seriously, and all squads were encouraged to bond and get to know each other, to strengthen teamwork on the field. Not to mention, if the rumors he'd heard through the grapevine about the sniper and a certain Ripper were true…

___'Oh man, this is…it can't end well…I just have a feeling…'_

If it weren't for his training, he would've jumped like a rabbit at Geronimo's door-kick entrance, but he hastily shoved the paper back into the corner where he'd found it, attempting to look as if he'd just arrived himself. "O-oh, Geronimo, Cyx…I didn't think I'd be the first one here."

"Yeah, what a surprise, kid," their leader gave a smirk, but ruffled his hair in a sisterly manner. "Me and Esui bumped into the Commander on the way so we got held up a bit. Anyway, it's just going to be a quick brief, nothing major." She and the blonde took their seats, just as St. Germain and the Commander herself entered and took their respective positions, but not before Gaudí noticed the interlocutor quietly scooping up that sheet of paper and tucking it away in a folder with the words "CONFIDENTIAL" clearly labeled on the front. He squirmed nervously, hoping that St. Germain wouldn't suspect him of reading that sheet—why did he come early, again?

"—And so, the coast of Alaska will be stable for the next few weeks then?" The three of them nodded, the boy making every effort to be extra attentive to the meeting. "Very well. The three of you are dismissed back to the ___Alex Logan_. Pickup will be within the hour, so please make sure anything you need to take care of is finished by then." Stretching, the Princess herself led the way, followed by her ever-loyal partner, and then lastly Gaudí, who was walking so close he nearly plowed right into Cyx. At least, this was before St. Germain firmly placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to cry out with a start.

"…Pardon me, Gaudí, I did not mean to startle you…" the bespectacled man gave the boy a curious stare, the fact that the holder looked exactly like a kid being caught with his hand in the cookie jar was not helping matters. "…I would like a quick word with you, if that's all right?"

"U-Uh, s-s-sure…" Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, and although he was pretty sure St. Germain wouldn't actually do anything, just the thought of being in trouble was enough to scare him into a nervous wreck. ___'Crap, I'm done for—he's bound to interrogate me on that paper, and then probably threaten me to silence about Miss Nobunagun's transfer, and then I'll probably be punished—'_

"—It has come to my attention that there are certain…articles about Miss Nobunagun floating around DOGOO…"

___'Oh god, this is it! Crapcrapcrap…'_

"—while I am sure Mr. Anuus' motivations for raising morale are justifiable, such…questionable material about one of our holders, especially falsified material, is not something we at DOGOO wish to condone. Therefore, I'm afraid I must ask you to relinquish your swimsuit photos of Miss Sio Ogura's clones; that, and she herself has expressed her distaste in having such photographs spreading."

The room was so silent you could've heard a pin drop, though for Gaudí, the reason was entirely different than the one St. Germain had in mind. "O-oh, y-yeah, those…s-s-sorry about that, yeah…I'll just…throw them away or something…" Inwardly he heaved a sigh of relief, the weight of her transfer now far outweighing whatever negligible pleasure those photos had brought.

Smiling, the man patted him kindly on the shoulder. "Thank you, Gaudí…I know you're a growing boy and all, but such material really isn't suitable for one as esteemed as yourself." As soon as he was sure the butler-figure was gone, the boy sped back to his room and locked the door, wondering just ___how_ he was going to break the news to Miss Nobunagun.

___'You don't have to, you know…I-I mean, if it's supposed to be a secret and all, maybe they have a reason…so why bother getting yourself tangled up in something that's not any of your business?'_But a transfer…and the fact that they were clearly going to great lengths to keep it among the top circle… Gritting his teeth, the boy wished, not for the first time, that he didn't have such a weak heart…that he could harden himself against emotions, just like Geronimo and Cyx were able to completely turn off their emotions that time when Galileo had been seriously injured.

___'But it's not right…and you know that!' _Even if she would never look at him the way she did Jack, just knowing that he could help her, in some manner…even if it was only letting her know of an outcome that he couldn't change…then maybe—

___'—And then what? Cause her despair about something that's out of our control? What if she blames me…'_

The First Platoon met at the specified time, each carrying their personal bag as they stepped aboard the aircraft. His silence throughout the trip was unnoticed by the two women, who seemed more interested in discussing potential combination strikes for their next mission. As soon as they were back aboard the base, he made a beeline for the sniper's quarters, not even bothering to drop off his bag first.

Maybe it was a coincidence, but later on, after that fateful knock that set everything in motion…a single brush against the door before it slid open, much to his surprise, not expecting the her to open it so soon.

"Oh! Gaudí, you're back? What's up?" Whereas some called her plain, he found her to be quite pretty actually, especially when her face lit up with that friendly smile. Jack was a lucky guy, indeed…swallowing, he tried to return her grin, but it was only a half-hearted attempt.

"H-Hey, Nobunagun…u-uh, actually, do you have…a few minutes? I think there's…there's…I need to tell you something." He forced himself to breathe.

"Privately."


	4. Chapter 4

Something to talk about? In private? For second, Sio thought that perhaps he was sorry about partaking in that rather salacious activity of trading around her clones' swimsuit photos…but another glance at his unusually glum face, and she decided that she was simply being too hard on the poor boy. Giving him a reassuring smile, she moved to the side and ushered him into the compact but functional confines of her cabin.

"Ah, Gaudí-kun…would you like something to drink? I only really have water or tea, but…?" She offered the boy a can of green tea, the kind that she was used to seeing in the many vending machines that populated her home country. He accepted, although clearly, something was troubling his conscious, for he didn't open it, but instead set it aside. Silently, she wondered if she'd done something wrong…he was avoiding looking at her intently, and swinging his legs restlessly.

"…Gaudi, I—"

"—Miss Sio—" They both stared at each other, the sentences running into a cluster of sounds and words, before the sniper broke the silence with a slight giggle.

"Sorry, you can go first. Uh…so, what is it?"

He opened his mouth, but although his lips moved, no sound issued forth; as if he was simultaneously stalling for time, while trying to find the best fit in a language that he only knew moderately well. "It's…I…has, has the Commander or, St. Germain…has anyone spoken to you, lately…? I-I mean, aside from just the usual admin stuff…like, I don't know the word—" he gesticulated nervously, now that the barrier was broken, it was as if he couldn't stop the stream of words. "Like…official-sounding, or important…business?"

That got her attention. The only thing she could think of that would even fit would be her request to St. Germain about dealing with those photos…but she had a feeling that was not the answer he was looking for. "Umm…I don't…think so? Well, I mean, I guess, if you want to count my conversation with St. Germain about those…pictures…that Capa took…?" A shake of his head confirmed her suspicions, and suddenly, the room seemed to drop a couple degrees as her stomach knotted nervously.

"W-well, it's only that—ahh, honestly, it's probably nothing anyway," the boy turned away, laughing in a very high-pitched manner that didn't suit him at all.

"…Gaudí. Is it…is something wrong?" At the serious tone, he turned and faced her, and she knew that it wasn't going to be pleasant.

"…Oh, Miss Sio… It can't be true; surely it's a mistake—"

"—What's a mistake, Gaudí?" She was trying to remain calm, to act the part of the mature, older sister, but the way he kept trying to push back the inevitable—her breath was hitching, pupils contracting, and she felt a surge of adrenaline flooding her system, as it always did before a fight.

This was it. The point of no return…and whatever happened from here on out, it would be chaotic and messy and there was no way to predict anything, anymore. ___You just have to bite the bullet, and—_

"—They're thinking of transferring. You. To…to the sniping squad, I think…a-aboard the ___S. Hiller_…"

It was as if time was stopped in that one moment, and for a second, she could feel ___everything_—her heartbeat, the exhale, her chest being constricted in a cage, that rush where her mind raced to construct every single possibility of a way out from every single possible scenario that could be interpreted—

"—io, Miss Sio—please, I don't, I didn't mean—" The young holder was clearly upset now, be it for his own fate, or hers, it wasn't clear… She struggled to breathe, to tell herself that ___she needed air to function_, and yet—

___'Transferred? But why? How? Is it because they disapprove of my relationship with Adam… But it can't be…' _It took a few seconds before Sio realized that while her inner dialogue was running, Gaudí had been rambling on about something else.

"—Wait. I-I'm sorry—what were you saying?" That shake in her voice, but she couldn't stop the tremble that was running through her arms either, much less her body.

He sniffed, trying to not to cry. "I-I…don't think it was m-meant for anyone to know, but…I—my platoon, we were supposed to meet for a debrief back on the ___Clayton Forrester_…and, and since I got there early, I…just happened to see it on a piece of paper. I swear, I don't know anything else—St. Germain, he, he came by later and took it away, it seemed like they didn't want anyone else to know and I don't want you to get in trouble either—"

All it took was a single arm, and he instantly fell silent. ___This couldn't be happening…it was a lie…wasn't it? _"Gaudí, please, I…believe you. So, so, don't…worry. It's not…your fault. I-if anything…heh, I guess I should be thanking you, for being worried about me…" As mischievous as the younger boy could be, the sniper had come to genuinely enjoy his playful friendship. "In any case…if St. Germain wants this to remain a secret for now, then, it's probably not a good idea to confront them about it head-on…I-I mean, I'm sure they've got their reasons…" But the more she thought about it, the worse that churning feeling in her stomach grew.

She felt like she was going to be sick.

"…I-I didn't have enough time to get a closer look…but, I think…it's coming up really soon."

A pause. A single inhale.

"…When."

Eyes squeezed shut, voice wavered.

"…A-at the end…of this week…"

So. Just three more days.

___The beginning of the end._


	5. Chapter 5

"'Ey? Somethin' wrong with your biscuit, squirt?" A quiet tea time, unlike the usual chatter that precluded the now-daily (whenever possible) ritual aboard the ___Alex Logan._ Though, it could also partly be due to the fact that the other pair—Gandhi and Newton—were off in a last-minute sparring match, the old trainer having decided that the First Platoon by itself to not be enough. Today, it was just her and Adam; though, ever since Gaudí had practically dropped a bomb in her quarters yesterday, it had been hard for her to focus on anything else—on any___one_ else. Even the biscuits, which she normally had to fight Jess for, were difficult to swallow.

"…E-eh? I-I'm sorry…what did you say?" He gave her a look that was beyond just mere irritation, but narrowed emeralds that were layered with concern.

___Tap. Tap._ His fingers stopped their endless drumming and he leaned forward, so close that she wanted to shrink back in her chair, yet there was always something about him, a certain magnetism, that kept her captive, like the way an antelope, even when staring into the eyes of death, dared not run.

"…All right, 'fess up. Somethin's wrong. You haven't been listening to a word I've been saying this entire afternoon. And don't even get me started on this morning…" he muttered, brushing the crumbs off her cheek. She twitched, his fingers were unexpectedly warm against her face…or was it that she was just feeling unexpectedly cold?

She forced herself to swallow. What could she say? Should she even say anything? Ever since that fateful conversation…her mind instantly going into replay mode, though it had all been a blur after that; she couldn't even remember what she did for the rest of the day, except mostly staying in her room and doing nothing, only going out for food.

___Gone. In less than two days. Not here. Not with him. _A wave of nausea gripped her, and she resisted the urge to throw back up everything she'd just eaten, the sour taste of bile burning her throat. Unreal…that's what it was. Why was it only when she'd just started learning something, feeling something, with him, that it would all be taken away?

Ah, karma. Perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised; Sio Ogura, a military otaku loner, ignored by just about everybody and really, with the exception of Oda Nobunaga floating around in her veins, was not all that important. So why should it come as a surprise that even this small piece of happiness, the one wish she'd never thought she'd wanted, would be shattered as well?

___'It's your fate to be alone…'cause you're nothing but a loser, who wouldn't even have gotten to where she is now without that e-gene of yours!'_ A sneering voice, her thoughts seared by her own bitter, acerbic self-conscious. Fingers clenched so tight they might as well be drawing blood, a single breath…

…And suddenly, she let out a high-pitched, hysterical giggle, though there was absolutely nothing humorous about the situation at all. It was as if the world had become inverted again, like she always thought it did whenever they fought. Red was blue, up was down, pain was pleasure… Nothing really mattered anymore…so why should she hold herself back?

"O-oy, y'all right, squirt? …Sio." The sound her name drawn from his lips brought her back to reality, but it was too late—that one last bastion of restraint, the one that kept her in line all this time, had been snapped into a thousand pieces. Pieces that could be temporarily repaired, maybe, but it would never be whole again. She stared back at him, her smile so forced it was hurting her face.

"Hmm? I'm fine… Though, I miss Gandhi and Newton…" It wasn't the main issue, but it wasn't a lie either. Not that he was satisfied with that answer, but he was savvy enough to know when she was purposely avoiding his question.

He'd let it go…for now…

"…Right. Anyway, we should probably clean this up—forgot to tell ya, that ___douche_ Vidocq's aboard today for some meeting or another—who the hell knows—and they're probably gonna want this space for later."

Wait. Since when did the great Françoise Vidocq decide to come visit the ___A. Logan_? The strategist never, as far as she knew, left the___C. Forrester_—even Hunter, who was not a fighter, had a battle suit just in case.

"H-he's here?" That single fact pushed the reality back onto her, and in her frenzied mind, the gears, though scattered and loose, were still working…

___'Among the holders, Vidocq's pretty much the only one with access to the inner circles…if anybody, he's got to at least know something—!'_

Without another word, she left her teacup on the table, still half-full. "I'm sorry Adam, I, I need to—I promise I'll help clean up next time!" She rushed past him, pushing the image of his reaction—shock, confusion, and was that ___jealousy_—out of her mind. Nevermind that her promise was going to be one she wouldn't be able to fulfill…

Unless… Maybe it would be pointless. That one piece of paper, everything had all ready been confirmed, hadn't it? It was like trying to stop a landslide with your hands.

But that didn't mean you couldn't keep trying.


	6. Chapter 6

___'What were the odds…that he would be here, of all times, right after that?'_ A part of her sarcastically wondered if he was here to give her the bad news in person, but that was just too unbelievable. Although not a complete ass in her opinion, she still hadn't forgotten that he lived by the creed of 'the needs of the many over the needs of the few'. Surely, this must have had some influence on their decision…

"H-hey, wait up! Vidocq, wait!" The young man turned, startled that anyone would call him out like this, much less the newest holder, and the one who had managed to upstage him during Stone Forest, to boot. His eyes narrowed into slits at her approach, but she was too wired to back down now.

Not with everything at stake…

"…Miss Nobunagun. How may I help you?" A slight nod of his head, and the escorts were dismissed, leaving just the two of them in the empty corridor. His eyes…they were a cold, icy blue, not at all like the fire that sparkled in Adam's…she wondered, not for the first time, just what Galileo saw in this guy.

"It's…there's an issue I'd like to ask you about." No reaction, though in her peripheral vision, she saw his fingers twitch just slightly. ___'So. He must know…'_

"In private…" For second they were both in a Mexican stand-off, neither side willing to back down or make the first move.

"…Very well." He stepped to the side and slid a card against the keypad, door sliding open. "After you." Though he may have been cold-hearted, he was hardly a menacing figure, not with that scrawny frame of his, and yet when she stepped past him, into that room, she felt a shiver of fear.

Like walking into a den of lions.

Or to her own execution.

"Well? What is it," he snapped, clearly irritated at this disruption. He may have put up the cool facade of genius strategist around the others, but when confronted, the mask dropped; his fingers twitching restlessly as he paced the room, obviously uncomfortable with the sudden intrusion in his meticulously planned schedule.

Not that she actually felt bad for him.

"I…" No beating around the bush, not anymore. There was precious little time remaining, and she had even littler patience. "It's…the transfer. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

His eyes grew wide and he sputtered, losing all composure and unable to form words as he ransacked his mind on how she ___could've possibly known—_

"—Don't bother trying to figure out how you slipped up; let's just say I have my sources too, and leave it at that, yeah?" Her steely gaze met his with equal fervor, though inside, she was shaking—from nervousness, from fear, from rage…perhaps Nobunaga himself, having sensed the situation, was stepping in and bolstering her own courage… "Just give me an answer."

"I-I—you—y-yes, okay, yes! Fine, in technical terms, you are due to be transferred to the special sniping squad aboard the ___Steven Hiller _by Friday. Is that what you want to hear?!" The tactician threw up his hands in frustration, furious at having been outmaneuvered by the sniper for a second time.

It's not something she ___wanted _to hear; it's something she ___needed_ to hear. That gnawing feeling in her stomach quickly churning into a sickening rage…at Command, at Vidocq, at herself…

___Control yourself; we're not done with him yet…_

Before she even opened her mouth, he already knew, that he wasn't out of the woods, not by a long shot. "…What else. What do you want." He sighed in resignation, rubbing his temples. Command was going to have his head for this if they found out about this leak…

"Why. I…I've been working well with my platoon as is. Why change all that now?"

___Why would you give me life, only to take it away?_

The hard questions…of course, the detective couldn't forget that within this petit shell of a girl, lay the soul of one of the greatest strategists known to mankind. Still…this was classified information they were talking about here. ___Strictly _classified___. _And Vidocq wasn't just going to roll over on his back and let some upstart push him around, brilliant strategist or not.

"…I'm afraid that part's classified, Miss Nobunagun…now, if you'll excuse me, I believe this conversation is ___over_—" Quicker than he could blink, she had grabbed him by the collar and, with a surprising amount of strength exuding from her smaller frame, pinned him against the wall with a thud.

"—Don't lie to me, Vidocq—you practically ___make_ all the commands, you think I'm stupid enough to just accept your bullshit about this being 'classified' or 'secret'?!" The fury all but taking over her mind, it was hard to remind herself that as much of a bastard this guy was, they needed him. Crushing him would be a bad idea…as tempting as the thought might've been…

Icy blue glaring back at the blood-red crimson, he contemplated for all of three seconds just simply lying to her or even staying silent, but somewhere inside, he still remembered the feeling known as sympathy… That, and there was no telling what Nobunagun would do when fully provoked.

"…Balance. Control. The Second Platoon…already has four holders now…whereas William Tell has always worked alone… Besides, did you really think you were destined to be placed on the ___Alex Logan _in the first place?" He chuckled mirthlessly as the girl's eyes widened in shock. "That's right…the Commander was all set to partner you with Tell…but that old man Capa intervened on your behalf; said you'd be better off proving your worth first with a combat platoon." Taking advantage of her sudden shock, he wrenched himself free from her grasp, attempting to regain his authority.

She didn't even care that Vidocq had pushed her away, effectively establishing his seniority over her once again. "…If DOGOO has been able to function effectively up until now, then I don't see how my transferring at this point is going to make a difference…"

"Ah yes, the control part, eh…" This girl was certainly an enigma…one minute a clumsy, babbling fool, and the next a ruthless warrior… Hell, what more harm could be done at this point—she'd already ruffled his feathers more than once, pity was out of the question now.

"Control…?"

"Correct. Or rather, more accurately, your control over your e-gene. Oda Nobunaga. He was an interesting man, wasn't he…a genius leader, politician," the man resumed his pacing, stalking around the girl so much like a lion eyeing its prey, "and might I add, ruthless killer—"

She spun around, the world becoming more and more unbalanced as Vidocq continued his little monologue. Yes, she knew about Nobunaga and his notoriety…but wasn't that exactly why they had chosen him? A violent shiver coursed through her body and suddenly she felt very exposed, vulnerable, especially as he eyed her with that leer…

"I-I'm not, I'm not some mindless killer…if that's what you're implying—"

"—Oh no, not at all, Miss Nobuna___gun_," a heavy emphasis of sarcasm on her chosen name, "but we have been watching you during your battles, and during training…" He paused, as if to carefully reconsider his choice of vocabulary. "You're somewhat of a rarity among the holders…as Sio, you're nothing more than just another human who happens to hold an e-gene, but as Nobunagun—well, the carnage certainly speaks for itself, doesn't it?"

"B-but that—I'm not the only holder who enjoys a good fight!" Her voice was higher pitched now, a tinge of desperation, and was that ___denial_—

"Mmm hmm, certainly, I guess you could say it's fortunate we also have people like Geronimo and Jack to handle the brunt of the dirty work, so to speak…but this dichotomy between the holder and the e-gene, the Commander feels is troubling, to say the least…"

She felt like she was about to have an anxiety attack. Did that mean that…something was wrong with her?!

"Especially given the fact that Jack the Ripper is already on the Second Platoon…the two of you, combined…" The sentence was unfinished, but Sio could already guess what he was going to conclude.

___'You two may be valuable as soldiers in this war, but once it's over, you'll become a liability…even potentially a threat…'_

An eerie giggle bubbled up from her throat before she knew what was happening, and even Vidocq's grin faltered a little at the chilling sound.

"___Saa_, Vidocq…what, you're worried that once the Objects are defeated, you'll run out of ways to entertain us? Is that it?"

"Hmph…don't get ahead of yourself, or are you forgetting that DOGOO's number one priority is mankind's protection? This is simply a…defensive measure. You understand, don't you…when risks are this high, you can't just go running around with loose cannons all over the place. I know what you two are capable of…perhaps more than you realize."

___Tick tock. Tick tock. Time is running out.._. Her head was starting to throb but she couldn't figure out why…nor could she really be bothered to care… "And so your solution is to simply separate the two loosest cannons…that the best you can do?" Her hands were itching to do something, anything, to wipe that condescending look from his face—

"—It's dangerous for you to be around him! You may not realize it, but you're putting every one of us at risk!"

The words might as well have been a strike, so stunned was her expression at this outburst. Silence descended upon the room like a haze, threatening to smother both. Heaving, the young man straightened himself once more, and turned his back in finality. "…I've already told you everything I know; make with it what you will."

He was about to key open the door when it already slid open, the face of Jack the Ripper staring back in surprise. '___Shit…don't tell me he actually heard everything…' _But this conference room was private; best to play dumb for now unless he brought it up.

"Ah, Jack…looking for Sio, I assume? We were just…finishing up some discussions about the previous mission."

The taller man didn't so much as twitch a single muscle, though from the single eye that was visible, it was clear that he wasn't buying it. "…Uh huh. I'm sure you two," a single glance at the sniper, who looked just as shocked as he felt, "must've had a lot of…___important business_…'ey?"

An equally-leveled, icy gaze returned the emerald's fire. "…In a manner of speaking. Now, if you'll excuse me, I ___really_ must be going," and before either of them could protest, he pushed his way past, glad to finally be out of this entire mess.

It was just the two of them now…and Sio could feel a different kind of fear starting to push its way forward. She didn't even know where to begin diffusing the situation—all the previous actions having been just too suspicious to say she simply wanted to chat about tactics; the fact that both her and Vidocq had looked none too neat either was only adding fuel to the fire that threatened to set the entire room ablaze.

A startlingly selfish breath…

"_—____Adam—_"

"—___Save it_; I don't want to hear your excuses." A low snarl ripped from his throat, that glare enough to reduce all her feelings of rage into despair. "I'm sure whatever it was you two needed to…___discuss_…it obviously wasn't important enough to include me." Without another word, he turned and left, the door quietly sealing itself in his wake.

As soon as she was alone, she collapsed on the floor, curled into a fetal position, not even bothering to control her sobs as they wracked her body, shaking and convulsing. It wasn't even the confirmation of her fate…but that ___hurt _she had caused him—it didn't take a genius to figure out the conclusion he'd must've come to, or at least, couldn't help but come to—

She stayed like that, crying and screaming at herself, until the clock gently chimed, announcing the scheduled mealtime.

___'Balance. Control. I'm losing myself…and Jack is influencing me…'_ A swirl of thoughts, each more bitter and unwound than the one before it… They were lies…all lies…and yet, they were also the truth. A violent surge of energy pumped through her veins and in one wild, completely uncontrolled moment, she grabbed her mug and threw it as hard as she could against the wall, the resounding shatter stunning everyone into silence in the dining commons, the only sound remaining her own ragged, heaving breaths.

"S-Sio-chan…are you feeling all right—!"

She didn't want to be here; couldn't face them, and especially not him, who hadn't spoken a word to her ever since but instead ignored her in a cold silence. Food wasn't even on her mind anyway—right now, she just needed some time to think.

To find an answer, even though she already knew there would be none.


	7. Chapter 7

"So, you wanna tell me what the hell that was all about?"

It took every ounce of self-restraint and several reminders that the Indian was ___only concerned for the both of them_ to prevent the silver-haired man from planting a fist directly into the other's face. As superficial as they could act at times, when it really came down to it, he knew Mirza and Beckham were just as concerned about Sio as he was.

Well, at least, that was before he'd come up with the completely stupid idea of actually being ___worried_ for her, what with the way she'd been distracted all morning, then taking off the moment she heard that Vido—

___'Don't. Just…don't even think about it…' _It wasn't that he didn't trust her…hell, he would probably put himself first in terms of even the slightest chance of deviating from their relationship…and yet…

…Vidocq's stunned expression, her shock, both of them acting completely guilty of doing ___something… _There was always the possibility that it wasn't anything remotely close to what he was thinking of—was ___dreading_—it was too hard to tell if their disheveled appearance was due to a heated argument or ___something else entirely_—

___'…But if they weren't doing anything, then why try and hide it? At the very least…there's something they don't want me to know…'_ He was shaking; if it weren't for the fact that he'd made sure to put any potential breakables down first, surely something would've shattered by now. All the insecurities, the fear, guilt, even shame of being who he was, everything that had taken what felt like an eternity to tamp down and was seemingly dissolved when she accepted him…

…They all came roaring back with a vengeance. A sickening feeling, twisting his gut until he feared for a second that he might just vomit all over the table, right there and then. It was hard to breathe, even harder to talk; the sound of his own pulse threatening to drown out every other voice as he felt the unwelcome constriction of ___panic_ threatening to suffocate him—

"—oy, Adam! Get yourself together man," the emeralds blinked back into glittering onyx, the expression staring back completely serious. "You all right there?"

"….Th' fuck d'you think?" Maybe he should just go back to his room and lie down; not even to rest, but the stress of the situation was starting to take a toll on his body; breaking into a cold sweat and yet it felt as if he was about to burn up.

A wry chuckle from the other man, unaffected by his crude response. "I was being completely serious, you know. Sio-chan…she doesn't just go around tossing cups at walls, then running away before the food's even been served." A response of dead silence, and a single glare. Hmm. So, they were going to have to do this hard way, then…

"…Did you two have a…fight?"

Now it was the other man's turn to give an ironic smirk. A fight? Ha, he wished it could be something as mundane as that. "…'s that what you think?"

"It's what I'm guessing." Arms crossed, a completely neutral expression that was neither sympathetic nor judging. "But since you don't seem keen on sharing, I suppose I'll have to keep guessing, then…" The chair leaned back so far it was almost tipping, but Mirza was maintaining perfect control, teetering right on the edge of slipping. "Maybe it wasn't a fight…at least, not directly. Hmm, let's see…oh wait, we had a visitor today, didn't we…"

A sudden sharp intake of breath, pupils contracting involuntarily and his heart was beating so hard he feared even Mirza would hear it…

"—That's right, Vidocq was aboard for some perfunctory meeting…not that I actually saw him, since Capa coerced Jess and I into training…but, you two—"

"—___don't, please," _If it had been any other situation, if he had even been just a little bit more aware of himself, Adam would've been humiliated at how pathetic he sounded at this very moment, his voice shaking uncontrollably, because he knew, knew all too well exactly what Mirza was going to say next—

"—would've probably bumped into him later—"

"_—____just stop it—_" fists clenched, muscles starting to strain under the tension—

"—Jess says you were the only one cleaning up when she got back—" man and chair both tilting forward again—

"_—____I'm warning you, right now—_"

"—you saw them—"

"_—____stop it don't—_"

"—think she's—"

"_—____NO—!_"

"—cheating." The chair gave a final 'thud' as its front two legs settled onto the floor, its owner long having stood up since then. A deafening silence, save for their own breaths, one evenly controlled, the other a ragged heave.

"I'm right. Aren't I." Completely neutral. Like one would state a fact.

He felt like he was being suffocated, smothered alive. In hindsight, he shouldn't have been surprised at all that Mirza would be able to so quickly and accurately size up the situation—the unofficial title of resident playboy wasn't simply just for kicks. It was only when his brain started nagging at him for oxygen did he remember that he needed to breathe in order to survive.

"But you're not sure, are you…else, you wouldn't be so conflicted like this." As he had told Sio before, when off the battlefield, he didn't always play defense…

"…What are you trying to do…" His mind was a mess, a flood of emotions that he hadn't felt in a long time, hadn't ever wanted to feel again, and now it was as if Mirza was purposely dragging them all out at once. Suddenly, that visage he'd always considered to be a friend, an ally…it filled him with a burning hatred.

The other either didn't notice the shift in demeanor, or more likely didn't care. "___Do?_ I'm not the one who needs to do anything…and you know that." A certain edge in his tone, for even a peacekeeper does not have infinite patience.

They were both standing now, the room feeling more like a cage than a sanctuary. A violent urge was burning inside him…but no, he couldn't, not here, if only because it would prove Mirza right… "…And you think you know better than I do? Know what the 'right' thing to do would be?" The words were spat out, as if each syllable cost him.

He had to hand it to Adam though—the man did not give in easily, if at all. Retreat simply wasn't a part of his vocabulary. Then again, the same could be said for him—especially when it involved this particular idiot.

"I don't 'think' so—I ___know_. You believe you're the only one who cares about her, who understands her—well guess what, she's important to the rest of us, too. Or did you forget that as well, ___Adam?_" They could all see it—the attraction between the two had been obvious since day zero, but that didn't mean she could only be understood by him; be loved by him.

A low growl was rippling from his throat, what little patience he had to begin with now dangerously low. "And? Why don't you just cut it out with your fancy bullshit, an' get straight to the point? 'Cause I gotta say, you're treading on some mighty thin ice here, ___Mahesh_."

Eyes narrowed into dark slits, the expression so unfitting on the Indian's usually handsome face that any normal person would've fled from the room by now. But neither of them were exactly normal, and frankly, even the emergency alarm would be hard pressed to budge either of them at this point. "…All right then." As much as he trusted Adam, the venom that was present in his eye unnerved even his soul. But if it was for Sio's sake…then it was worth it.

"Go talk to her. Apologize. It doesn't matter if she was in the wrong or not—but do you really think giving her the cold shoulder is going to fix anything? Is going to answer anything?"

Oh, it was ___so close_—the urge to let go of all control and beat the other holder to a pulp—but no, had to reign it in, keep a leash on that temper that was one day going to be the death of him…

"…Excuse me? Tha' the best answer you could come up with…" Obviously a discussion was in order; he knew that from the moment that door opened and the face that greeted him was not one he expected. "Oh, that's rich…coming from a ___wanker_ like ___you_…"

It was rare for him to be so agitated, but for one terrible second, it was as if Gandhi's amicable influence hadn't existed at all. Even if Adam would most likely wipe the floor with him… "Oh yeah? Well, ___wanker_ I may be, but at least I'm man enough to admit when I'm being a total ___cunt_, especially to the girl I care about—___ugh!_"

A flurry of movement, and the chair crashed with a tremendous bang onto the floor as he lost all remaining control, lunging at the other holder with a speed that was usually only reserved for Invasion Objects. "Shut up! Just ___SHUT UP!_" His own voice like a roar as his fist connected with warm flesh, not even caring that he was striking the one person who could even be considered his best friend. "You think you're so much better, that just because you lucked out and got the great Mahatma Gandhi, that suddenly you know ___exactly what to do?!_" A sharp pain in his side, and before he could register the blow, another to his torso, this time nearly knocking the breath out of him. "___Hngg—_"He may have had the advantage when it came to height, but he knew, from what Mahesh had hinted at, he wasn't the only one with experience in street smarts.

If it weren't for the fact that both of them were still in their regular uniforms, and they were in the common area, it could've counted for a sparring match. Mirza may have been more cunning when it came to landing sudden blows, but in the end, Adam simply hit harder and faster—a fact he could certainly attest to now, being pinned to the floor and trying not to cry out with each blow.

"You. Don't. Know. Anything!" Each word punctuated by a strike, blood running down his fists but he couldn't bring himself to care. It was fury as he'd never felt before, certainly, never against his own team mate. His own jaw was aching and he could taste the bitter, metallic tang of his own blood, but it wasn't enough—not yet—

"___What the bloody hell is going on here?!_"

A third voice, one that might've helped if it only showed up just a tad earlier, but it was still enough that he stopped for a moment, giving the other a window of opportunity—the punch came so fast that he veered towards the edge of unconsciousness, if it hadn't been for his training.

"Mahesh! Adam! Stop it, stop it right now!" With a force that only a woman of her nature could exude, Jess Beckham managed to pull the two apart, her expression one of simultaneous rage and sorrow. "Bloody fuck, what's wrong with you two?! We've already got more than enough on our plates as is, and yet you two still need to have a row? If Sio saw the two of you now…" There was no answer from either of them, only their panting and continued scowls, both of their uniforms utterly destroyed at this point, even if they could get the bloodstains out. The silence continued, terrible and strained, until at last the blonde could take it no more.

"…Look, I'm not going to even attempt to figure out what happened—what's important now is you two are going to the infirmary—" the glower she gave withering whatever protests the two had, "and then straight to your quarters." She began wiping up the worst of the blood with what used to be a part of one of their jackets, her maternal instincts still kicking in despite her fury. "And if I ever catch the two of you going at it again, I'm escalating this directly to the Commander." Tossing the dirty rag into the trash, she grabbed both of them by the shoulders and forcibly marched them out of the room.


	8. Chapter 8

If there was one thing he dreaded more than going out onto the battlefield (and that was saying a lot), it was, ironically, something that every med student, planned doctor-to-be or not, had to go through.

Clinic duty.

"Damn, wha' is this, 'let's give Hunter the graveyard shift week' or sumthin'," the anatomist muttered under his breath, finally checking off the last patient on the nightly shift schedule. Just when he thought he could finally catch a break and get back to his regularly scheduled lab sessions with un-moving, already-dead chunks of EIOs…nope, a last-minute request from the usual nurse-on-duty aboard the ___Alex Logan_ coming through, demanding a replacement due to some bampot of an intern injuring himself with a scalpel or some other crap like that.

That, and the fact that since Vidocq just oh so conveniently happened to be headed up anyway, St. Germain didn't exactly see what the problem was.

___"There likely won't be any raw dissections for a while, so you're schedule's certainly clear enough. Else, is there another problem, Mr. Hunter?"_

There wasn't much he could say to that, at least, not in presence of command. At least he managed to finish before 1am, if that was saying anything—

"—Hunter! Thank god, you're still here—"

—or not. The Scottish man stared at the sight before him, for second it seemed like he was back home, and instead of the infirmary aboard a military organization base, he was treating two plastered brawlers after a night at the local pub. Except the said drunks just happened to be his friends. And he was pretty sure they weren't drunk.

"What the—bloody hell, what'n the name of God happened?!" So much for his shift ending before the wee hours of dawn. With a resigned sigh, he tossed the clipboard off to the side and snapped on a pair of fresh gloves, all the while already giving the two holders a cursory look over. "Please tell me alcohol wasn't involved—"

"Hah, I only wish that were the case," the blonde grunted, shoving the two men into the room, each more reluctant to enter than the last. "No fucking clue what happened, all's I know is, I enter the room and Adam's beating Mahesh senseless."

A throaty growl from the aforementioned's direction, but other than that, neither of them were speaking. Or looking at each other.

Well. Alcohol or not, the anatomist couldn't say he was completely surprised that the two of them would have a go at each other at some point. One was the alpha male of the platoon, reckless and hot-tempered in every sense of the word, while the other was a smooth talking ladies' man whose charming smiled belied years of hidden motives. To be honest, he was rather surprised the two of them had gotten along so well, even considered to be good mates.

"…Well, 'f ya dinnea busy, Beckham, 'could use a hand here," he gestured towards the two, before tossing her a pair of gloves as well. "Might get done faster wit' the two 'o us…" Grabbing the kit, he took a deep breath to steel himself for what was to come.

It was painful; that much he was aware of. But as he sat in the harsh fluorescents, being poked and prodded by a grumbling Scottish man, it was as if he couldn't actually feeling anything. When that singular insult had left Mirza's lips—it was like a part of him shut down, and the instinct part of him, the part that without his conscience, left him simply as a beast, raged forward, blinding him to everything and anything. The only thing he remembered for sure was a burning hatred, the urge to just destroy everything until nothing was left.

He gave an involuntary hiss as Hunter swabbed up his jaw, the cotton coming away stained with crimson. "Ya got walloped pretty good, eh? Nivver thought I'd see th' day where Jack the bloody Ripper gets beaten up by Mahatma ___Gandhi_ 'f all folks," another dab of antiseptic before a bandage was applied. "…Y'sure no drugs or alcohol was involved?"

Like a rabid dog that would strike if one even inched into its territory, the silver-haired holder rushed towards Hunter with a snarl, only to be immediately restrained by the blonde as the Scotsman backed up with a string of curses, nearly knocking the tray of tools over. "___Shite_ man, bloody hell Adam, ya need t'calm the ___fuck_ down!" Breathing heavily, and glaring at both the poor anatomist and blonde with a single eye, he reluctantly steered himself towards the chair again. Behind him, he could hear the Indian voicing himself at last, a sardonic chuckle at the man's impulsive actions.

"I'd keep my distance if I were you, Hunter. Or better yet, maybe you should get him a leash. I'm sure Sio-chan would find it handy…" At that insult, the other man lunged towards the voice, this time only barely held back by the other two.

"___SHUT UP!_ …Ya keep talkin' like that, and I'll fuckin' rip yer throat out…" Even with two holders, and neither of them were particularly weak at that, it was a struggle to keep him in check.

"Big talk, coming from someone who, without that AU ball to keep your e-gene under control, is nothing more than a wild, savage, ___dog—_"

___"I'll fuckin' kill you—!"_

___"—I'd like to see you try—!"_

___SMACK. _The Indian reeled backwards in shock, although his facial features remained unchanged, even as piercing blue eyes glared back at him, her lips quivering as she withdrew her hand. "___Mahesh Mirza!_ That's enough out of you."

"An' same goes fer you, Muirhead. Y'better keep tha' temper o' yours under control, or I swear, on me grandmum's grave, I'll fuckin' tranquilize you." Grabbing the other man by the collar, Hunter was as furious as he was scared; unlike the Ripper, he tended to avoid conflict, and in battle, he could barely be considered offense. Still, this type of behavior, for whatever bloody reason—it was never something he would condone, being threatened or not. Both men stared at each other, seething in thinly-veiled fury, until at last, the emerald retreated…for now.

"I think you'd better prepare two doses, just in case." Having forced compliance out of Gandhi for now, Newton had resumed bandaging the man's cuts, although perhaps applying more force than was necessary.

"Duly noted…" Massaging his temples, Hunter resolved to wrap this up as quickly as possible, in every sense of the word. So much for taking it easy tonight, it seemed…


	9. Chapter 9

___'You've messed up—'_ ___'You're worthless—'_ ___'—useless—'_

___"Aaarrggghh!" _Heaving, she threw the covers off with a vengeance, sleep once again eluding her, despite the exhaustion from the previous day. Gasping to catch her breath, eyes strayed over to the dull glow of her standard-issue clock—******17:06**—blaring back at her.

She'd missed lunch, only slinking out to get something portable before shutting away again, almost like those ___hikkikomori_ the media loved to report about on the news. Nobody came looking for her—perhaps Jess tried at one point, but the door remained steadfastly locked. Whispers were abound though, and if she was hearing things right, apparently Adam and Mahesh had some sort of disagreement.

One that apparently was serious enough for Hunter to nearly file a report about it, but in the end, ultimately decided not to.

___Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Your time's almost up._

Dinner would be in an hour…but then again, why bother? Tomorrow at this time, she would be settling into her new 'home', a new room aboard a new ship, the ___Steven Hiller_, occupied by the Fifth and Sixth Platoons, none of whom she'd even seen or heard of before. If things were this bad between the members of the Second Platoon…

…Maybe it would be better to not even say good-bye at all.

******18:12**

"…Are you two ever going to tell me what happened? Or better yet, actually start talking to each other any time soon?" Strictly speaking, the blonde was only there because Hunter had suggested that the two men would probably need to be kept tabs on for a few days, given their explosive behavior in the infirmary—one that only narrowly avoided the use of powerful tranquilizers. Two sets of glares—one onyx and the other emerald—answered her question, though entirely without words.

Huffing, she pushed her plate to the side, its contents merely picked through. Although neither had spoken a word since yesterday's incident, the fight, combined with Sio's noticeable absence, was starting to make a sketchy path in her mind.

"Fine then. If you two are so disinclined to spill the facts..then I'm just going to start making assumptions." Both males continued to stoically play around with eating, although so far, neither of their plates seemed any less full than when they started. DOGOO's access to medical technology meant that they certainly looked a lot better than last night, although Mahesh was still sporting a black eye and Adam's fists remained in their mummified state.

"…Given Sio-chan's absence these past two days…I'd say this whole brawl revolves around her…doesn't it?" Judging by the way the fork in the silver-haired holder's grip tightened just slightly, and the Indian's eyes narrowing, she knew she'd hit the nail on the head. Well, given the dynamics of the team, Jess Beckham knew she shouldn't have exactly been surprised; after all, it was rather obvious that Adam had as good as claimed the Japanese girl all for himself, even without any sort of verbal proclamation. Add in a playful flirt who always liked to push the boundaries…

___'Hmm, who'd have thought that the Second Platoon would be splintered over a single girl…' _They'd been living this type of lifestyle for so long, that she'd easily forgotten that beneath all the fancy armor, the e-genes and AU balls, that they, the holders themselves, were only human. And like all other humans, they still had emotions, feelings, and all those messy aspects that bound them to traits like jealousy, insecurity, and vulnerability.

Just like everyone else.

Standing up, she collected the plates of uneaten food and shoved them in the fridge—no point in wasting it, after all. Behind, she caught sight of a blur of white rustling in her peripheral vision—

"—Wait. Before you go sulking off like a moody teenager," she grabbed him by his less-injured arm, the emerald whirling around in a blaze of anger—

—which was met with equally fierce sapphires. "I won't pretend to know all the details—nor am I even going to try. But I do know one thing: and that's you can't keep avoiding her forever." The jewels stayed for just a second longer, before he roughly yanked his arm out of her grasp, and stalked out of the room.

"…If I couldn't get to him, what makes you think you're going to have a better chance? The fact that you're both British?" The other man bit out sarcastically, languidly getting up now that the time bomb had disappeared.

"…It's better than not trying at all." The remaining dishes piled into the sink, unwashed.

He slunk over, hands in his pockets. Her attitude had been coolly professional towards them ever since yesterday, but it was better than seething death-glares and barely-concealed hatred that was coming from the other holder. Taking the last plate from her, he popped a bite off of it, much to her surprise and chagrin.

"Is it now, really?"

He shouldn't be here; really, the sensible thing would be to return to his own quarters and get some rest, tend to what remained of his wounds.

Instead, he found himself outside her room—___S. Ogura_ etched neatly onto the plaque—his gut a churning mess of emotions.

___'It's not too late…you can just turn around, head back, and she'd never even know you were here.' _He smirked only just slightly, mostly at his own self.

Since when did he ever like taking the easy way out.

He debated on knocking for all of two second before he just simply punched in the code (the day she'd finally let him in on it and he hadn't forgotten it since) and entered, under normal circumstances she would probably be furious and scold him for his lack of manners—

—but they'd long since past the point of normal by now. Eyes quickly adjusting to the dimness, he was greeted with silence and a prone figure sprawled on top of the covers, but he knew for a fact that she was fully awake. A few more seconds of mental debate before he silently crossed over to her bed and then, throwing all caution to the wind, sat on the corner. The sniper didn't even flinch or give any other indication that she acknowledge his presence, though she must've noticed.

"…I'm sorry." The apology already sounded lame in his head, and even more pathetic when he actually voiced it. Yet what else was he supposed to do? Further accuse her of actions that he had no proof of other than his own vast insecurities? Beg for forgiveness? Maybe sometimes the simplest answer was the best one.

No response from the sniper, though he could feel her stirring slightly, weight shifting around the mattress. "I'll admit…I was…wrong. It's just…"

Gods, why did this have to be so hard? "…You've been so quiet lately, at first I thought, it was something I did…an' then you suddenly take off just to see ___Vidocq_," his breath caught, a burning sensation at the memory recall but he forced it back down. "I guess…what was I supposed to think?"

The silence had reached an unbearable point and he was just about to head back out, since it seemed like she wasn't up for talking—

"—No, you can be mad at me. As you have a right to." Her voice was so soft that at first, he thought it had to have been his imagination—but no, she was sitting up now, gaze focused straight ahead at the blank wall, wearing nothing but her shirt that was only haphazardly buttoned.

So she wanted to talk after all…

Slowly he shuffled back, this time taking care to not sit on her legs. She looked like he felt—exhausted, upset, and wishing that they could go back to the way they were.

"…That day, Vidocq, I—we—___i-it's not what you think!_" She choked back a sob, all the feelings that she'd worked so hard to numb were rushing back up through the barrier, it was useless now that he was here, so close to her.

"…I'd kind of gathered that much by now…" He muttered dryly, feeling more and more like a total bastard for even upsetting her in the first place. "Guess I learned somethin'—and that's to never jump to conclusions."

Her heart ached, because truthfully, had she been his situation well, "…I'd probably would've, jumped to conclusions too…" But there still remained, that one, all-important fact:

___I'm going to be transferred tomorrow._

For some reason, she'd rather confess that she'd actually had that tryst with Vidocq, than tell him that she was, for all intents and purposes, about to be ripped out of his life completely. Was it because that cheating was something that on some level they could control? Or was it because the pain of permanent separation was so great, that she would even be willing to suffer such an accusation, if only he could continue to remain in her life?

She jumped slightly as a warm hand gripped hers, a muffled 'sorry' as it withdrew but she gripped it before that could happen. There was fabric wrapped around his hands—she was confused at first, but then remembered—

"—Did you and Gandhi-san…get in a fight?"

He barked out a laugh, though in hindsight he should've guessed that such news would travel fast. "Yeh, guess you could call it that…got pretty nasty, actually. Though, I'm going to assume, something similar between you an' Vidocq?"

Her heart nearly stopped beating, so close was she to just blurting it out—but no, no, she couldn't, just ___couldn't_, for a reason she did not understand—

—only that she knew, he mustn't know.

"…Y-Yeah, something like that…only, m-more words, less fists…"

"…May I ask why?"

___Yes, yes you have every right to ask why—even if I can't tell you._

___Even if I must lie to you._

"H-he, disagreed with one of, m-my, ___strategies_…I-I'd rather not going to details, but once he gets on a certain train of thought—" A single finger placed upon her lips, and as if under a trance, she fell silent.

"I know; I swear, the guy may be a great strategist, but he's still a class-A arsehole." The fingertip remained, only this time brushing slowly down her lips, sliding underneath as it met up with his thumb, gently cupping her chin. "Still…is there something else that's…bothering you?"

She shivered, both from his touch and her own guilt, threatening to crush her chest. "I-I—it's nothin—"

"—it's not ___nothing; _I know you better than that, squirt."

She couldn't, couldn't, ___couldn't_, had to keep it in—a sudden lift and she was staring right into his eyes.

"—Look at me, ___Sio_." His voice was commanding, but his touch was gentle. Both emeralds were visible now, a rarity, for she could not recall a single moment since she met him, when both beautiful jewels were on display, the left almost always hidden under the mane of white. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't bring herself to tear her gaze, because always, he only had to say her name, and she would lose all resistance.

"What's wrong?"

A lie? The truth? Or something else entirely…? Her lips quivered before she knew it, and yet she couldn't turn away. "I-I-uh, wish…"

___That we wouldn't be separated_

"…i-it's not like we, n-need to make anything 'official'—"

___Because that would just give them more reason to keep you away_

"—b-but, why…does nobody ever seem to care about…___us_?" She blinked and a single drop slid down, leaving a warm trail behind.

"What 'we' are…what 'we' want…"

___Is that so wrong?_

It seemed like the longest time before he said anything—only wiping away the droplet, and then another, and another—

"—Fine then."

"H-huh? Wha…?" She was genuinely confused…

"I s'ppose I shouldn't be so selfish all the time…even though I don't like th' idea of everyone knowing what we choose to do in our personal lives, if…if it makes you feel more comfortable, then…I'm okay with you tellin' other people. About us; our relationship." The entire hand now cupping one side of her cheek, the bandages a rough contrast to the silk that was her skin. She was keenly aware of every sensation against her face, his fingers, his breath, and the way she seemed to matching its rhythm to her own…her lids closed slightly, headed tilted towards the direction of his warmth, the fingers having moved upwards to caress the smooth strands of her hair.

___How would she ever learn to live without him…_

"…___Nee_, you don't have to do that, Ada—"

___Because this fairy tale…is already starting to come to an end…_

"—No, I…it's something that I've been thinking about, too… But only, if," and he stopped stroking her hair, and she turned, unsure of how to decipher his expression; it was one she'd never seen before, the jewels seemingly darker, a hazier emerald, more…intense, something that she did not know how to explain but knew, instinctively, what he wanted…

…Because she unconsciously desired it as well…

"…If?" She hadn't realized at all the word that had slipped from her mouth, it just happened, on automatic in her trance-like state.

"If you don't forget what happens…tonight."


	10. Chapter 10

"I-I won't…I promise, no matter what happens,"

___(Regardless if this world turns against us)_

"…I'll never forget." A slight tremble, then it grew into a shiver until it felt like her whole body was being numbed. What was this feeling…something foreign, but instinctively familiar as well.

He smiled, a real smile this time that was warm and genuine, and she couldn't decide if she wanted to cry or return it. This unspoken agreement, it hung so thick in the air yet she was sure, even without words, that he was thinking the exact same thing.

"I'm glad."

The last coherent thought she had was a silent promise that she would never, ever regret anything that happened, both before and after. Something warm and heavy crashed against her body, and the next thing she knew, she was flat on her back, his lips pressed against hers in a kiss that she was returning fervently, almost desperately.

That one last thread, which had already been stretched and frayed ever since she found out, finally snapped. There would be no going back after this, no chance that they would ever stop, until it was complete.

Kissing was something she'd never really considered herself good at, maybe average at best, but now it seemed as if those fumbling beginnings and awkward pauses never existed at all. Warm, warm, so warm—she sighed for the one second they decided to get air—and then she opened her mouth just slightly, just enough to dart out—

"—!" He was surprised, she could tell from his slight pause and the way he hesitated for a moment, before parting a crack so she could slide her way in.

___Oooh…_so this was actual French kissing, not the slobbery greeting that Newton liked to bestow upon them. Despite her initial dislike of feeling another tongue moving around next to hers, for some reason, it felt perfectly right with him. Her breathing was growing heavier by the second, they wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer but still, it was exhilarating. At last he broke off, nose just brushing hers as they panted for much-needed air. Her heart was hammering, and she could feel his too, thudding almost painfully against her own.

"Th-that was…nice…" For some odd reason she was suddenly overcome with the urge to just laugh, even though it wasn't a particularly funny situation, but still, being able to share something like this…it made her feel happy in way she'd never experienced before.

___With someone else. With him._

He gave her a crooked smile, and she knew he felt the same way. "Yeah…I'll agree with you on that…"

Still, was it just her, or was it getting awfully warm? Part of it must be because she was pressed so tightly against him, his body heat quite welcome, but her shirt was getting rather stuffy. It wasn't until her own fingers were threaded through his silver-white hair and his lips steadily moving southward, searing a path along her jaw and inching down her neck, did she become aware of a peculiar sensation tingling between her legs. It wasn't exactly painful, per say, but…uncomfortable? Like something was missing…but she didn't know what yet.

Despite all her inexperience when it came to relationships and romance, Sio was not a fool. Girls gossiped no matter where they were, and she'd remembered enough from health class to guess what was very possibly happening to her. Before she could even try and decipher it more, his lips swept up to capture hers in a kiss that she gladly returned.

Even if this was based on lies…it just felt so right.

Her mind was becoming unusually hazy; it was hard to concentrate on anything else, other than the his lips, his tongue that was battling hers in her mouth, and those heated fingertips that had somehow reached beneath her shirt (when did that happen) and were now ever-so-slightly sweeping along the smooth curve of her breast—

She gasped and a low whine escaped her mouth, the sensation entirely new to her body. As if snapped out of a trance, he pulled back immediately, chest heaving as he looked in away in what appeared to be…shame?

"S-sorry…I, shouldnt've done that…"

___Sorry? Whatever for? _"N-no, I mean…I, I didn't mind that at all…actually, I…liked it. Y-you just, surprised me is all…" He gave her an uncertain look, as if asking for permission to continue.

"Please…I don't…want you to stop, Adam…" Which was the truth; they'd come this far now, and given that this might very well be the last time she ever saw him again, there was no way she was going back.

One set of emeralds met a set of crimson. "…All right. Then…I'm not going to hold back." His voice suddenly seemed to have dropped in timbre, a huskier tone than when he'd apologized earlier. She shivered, for some reason it was making her incredibly nervous yet aroused at the same time.

"I don't want you to."

It was as if a switch had been flipped; that, after that moment, nothing else mattered except feeling and simply doing what they felt was ___right_. Her shirt, already having been loosened, was discarded to the floor along with his. Before she even needed to adjust to the sudden chill, something incredibly hot and moist dipped over the soft curves, before enclosing the entire mound in his mouth.

"___Hnng—!_ A-ah, A-Adamm, ___aah—!_" When did it become so difficult to speak? She could barely force her mouth to form the word for his name, let alone anything else. While his tongue was working one breast into a stiff peak, his hand had cupped the other, testing out what she liked—using his fingers to roll the bud until it stiffened, before switching sides.

It was hot. His mouth was so hot, and so were his hands—every single part of her body that was touching his bare skin felt like it was on fire. Moaning, she squirmed underneath him, his ministrations driving her to near-insanity with the constant bombardment of new, intense sensations. Still, as much as she was enjoying his attentions on her modestly-sized chest, another part of her was starting to demand more. Instead of being satiated, the pulsating had only gotten stronger, to the point where it was starting to hurt, oddly enough.

Summoning all her willpower, she gently took his hand, causing him to stop momentarily and look at her curiously. "A-ah, th-that was, so good…b-but, also—___nngg_—down, ___here_," and without even the slightest trace of embarrassment, she guided his finger down the smooth expanse of her stomach, right where the elastic band of her underwear sat, digging into her hips.

"…Ah." Still, this was even more intimate yet, than just simply lavishing kisses on her breasts. He gave her a silent look, as if to be sure, to be ___really_ sure.

Her whole body was tingling with a combination of nervousness and pleasure. No words were exchanged as she gave a single nod, and that finger continued, all the while he was keeping an eye on her face, perhaps curious as to what exactly it was she desired.

"___O-oh…_" She couldn't help the shiver as his finger slowly worked its way down, lingering slightly outside her slick folds. It was a little embarrassing to realize that she was so wet, but she couldn't help her body's own reactions. "___Hnn_…a-ah, oh, right there—___haah_," she cried out suddenly as his finger brushed the sensitive nub at the top, causing her to squeeze tightly, "it feels…___good_…" He was experimenting, almost maddeningly so as he simply circled the outside, enough to make her gasp and pant, but still not quite there…

As if reading her mind, his finger stopped right outside her entrance for a second, his face an unreadable expression as he watched her intently, all the while slowly pushing inward, at first hesitantly, and then increasing the pressure—

"_—____Ah!_" Her hips jerked clear off the bed as she moaned loudly, the feeling of being penetrated so intimately threatening to overwhelm everything. Oh god, how could something so simple feel ___so good? _And this was just from a single finger…

"…Are you all right? Sio?" She could only whimper and nod to the best of her ability, coherent speech all but gone as he slid his finger around inside, not too fast, but not too slow. "Just checkin'…you're, rather tight…"

Well, that was to be expected, as much. Still, the pressure was mounting, and before she knew it, he managed to slide in a second finger, causing her to gasp for air. This kind of pleasure was entirely new to her, the minimal experiments she'd tried on her own notwithstanding. Yes, physically it was an amazing experience, but it was also the knowledge that it was him who was making her feel like this, that he wanted her to feel good. Warmth seemed to pour into every vein in her body, translating physical pleasure into a happiness she'd never knew was possible. Moaning his name in incoherent stutters, she bucked her hips clumsily, forcing his fingers deeper inside. But still, it wasn't enough… She wanted something else, before she reached the peak and lost her mind.

"___Hnn_—A-Adam, w-w-wai—___ahh_—wait a sec," she gasped for breath, using every last ounce of what willpower she had left to pull his hand out, though her body protested at the sudden emptiness. He didn't say a word, only gazing at her levelly with those hazy emeralds, all the while licking her essence off his fingers as if it was perfectly normal.

Oh man. Somehow, that single image of him, tasting her…it was unbelievably sexy. Groaning, she managed to prop herself up, arms trembling slightly as she reached for his belt, feeling the stiffness against her palm.

He gasped and grabbed her wrist, before she could fully undo his slacks, even though she was sure he was already straining against his limit. "S-Sio…listen, you…you ___are_ sure about this?" For all the bossy, alpha-male behaviors he displayed around others, she was always surprised at how reserved he was in regards to anything even remotely physical. Even now, when she could tell just by his eyes that he wanted nothing more than to push her down and ravish her senseless, he was holding back, for her sake more than anything else.

"I-I…I'm sure…I know what I want…" Strange how her voice was quivering, even though she was not scared. Nervous, for sure, and certainly the weighty sorrow that was still underlying everything… She blinked in surprise as his hand gently reached up, wiping away a single drop that she hadn't even realized was falling.

Much to her surprise, there was a grin on his face, accompanied by a layer of pink flush along his cheeks. "Hah, I can definitely see that…but just, y'know, this is a major…___event_…I don't want you to force yourself to think it's the 'right thing' or whatever, if you truly don't…want it." He was stroking her hair now, in that affectionate way that he only revealed around her, and even then, if the moment was right.

___But I do know. I know more anything, this is something that I want…_

Hastily she wiped her eyes, not wanting him to feel guilty. "N-no, believe me I…I want this, I…want___you_." The line was as clichéd and cheesy as they came, but there was a reason it had persisted still.

"Th-that is, if…you want me."

A warm sigh, before she was suddenly embraced tightly against his chest, his heart beating strongly against her own. "I can't believe you're still thinkin' of things like that…" he muttered against her ear, before gently laying her down. "D'you really think I'd be here, with you, like this, if I didn't want to?"

"N-no…" In hindsight, it was a pretty banal question to ask at this point, but with everything that had happened, was happening, and would happen later on… If only she could capture this moment, and save it, forever.

"Relax; we'll take it slow, and…if you want to stop at any point, just let me know, okay?" He stroked her thighs in a soothing manner, almost as if to reassure himself as much as her. "I'll…try to make it as painless as possible…"

"Y-yeah…g-go ahead, then…whenever you're…ready…" Even though she trusted him with her life, she knew, inevitably, that it would hurt. Taking a few shaky breaths, she firmly tugged his wrist, letting him know that she was going to be all right.

"___Uuhnn—_" Her eyes widened as she felt something hot brush against her, breath hitching as a steady heat began pushing forward, inching its way in—"

"___Oh, shit—_" his voice trembling in her ear as she felt herself being stretched, more so than she'd ever imagined it possible. He was unbelievably hot, the length burning along her insides as he continued to ease his way in, slow enough so hopefully she wouldn't suffer too much. "Fuck, you're ___tight_…"

So far it seemed that all the gossip she'd heard about 'first times' and such had been exaggerated; sure, she was being stretched uncomfortably far, but certainly nowhere near the levels of pain she'd been bracing herself for. "___Ah, ah_, you're so…it's so hot…" The throbbing seemed to be growing stronger, as if in anticipation of what was to come.

"…You okay?"

"Y-yeah, it's fi—___agh!_" Perhaps she spoke too soon, for just when she thought it wouldn't get any further, a sharp pain made itself known. "___Ooh…nng_, i-it's only hurting a little…" Still, she couldn't help the wince on her face, causing him to furrow his brows and stop momentarily. "D-don't worry about me, just—___ahh_—give me a second…"

There was pain, but at the same time, the ache that she'd been nursing for so long was also at last being indulged in. He was pausing to give her some time to adjust, but soon enough, what had been hurting had faded against the growing hunger. "Go on…"

"…Sorry…" She was puzzled at his apology, for hadn't she just said that she was all right now—

"_—____Hnnng—!_" It felt like her insides were about to break as he thrusted himself fully inside, forcing her to accept. She cried out in shock, not expecting him to be so aggressive all of a sudden. "___Hnnn_…A-Adam, ___ah_…"

"Shit…I'm sorry, I—just thought it might be better to get it over with in one go…" He was breathing heavily against her shoulder, not moving quite yet but she could tell he wanted to, badly. "God, you're so hot…and tight…it feels amazing, you know…"

Even now, she couldn't help the blush that was rising to her cheeks at such…naughty words. Even if they were true.

"___Nngg_…it's fine, I-I'm fine, now…b-but, you are…kinda…big…" Not that she had any comparison, but well, it was probably true to a certain extent. Yet her body seemed to have perfectly molded to his size, tight as it was, fitting him perfectly.

He smirked, tapping her on the nose in a playful manner. "Now who's talkin' dirty, eh?"

"Adam…" She whined, partly because it was embarrassing to be called out like that, but also because the tension was becoming unbearable. Slowly, she tried moving her hips slightly—how did one go about doing this, anyway—before he realized what she was trying to do.

"Here, let me," he murmured, before placing one hand solidly on her hips, as if to ground himself, in order to start moving—

"___Aaahh!_ A-Adam—ah, ah,___oohh_—" It was a clumsy rhythm to begin with, neither of them concerned with pace or anything like that, but simply learning how to fit in sync, each thrust smoother and more pleasurable than the one before it, until finally it became an established flow.

There wasn't much to say anymore, and even then, their vocabulary seemed to have been reduced to nothing more than each others' names and a few short gasps and moans. The pressure that had been simmering idly in her core was now being built up again with a ferocious vengeance, leaving her crying out helplessly with each thrust, because surely it had to be building up to something…

"___Hnng_…S-Sio, Sio…" Her heavily-fogged mind took much longer than it should have to realize that he'd been calling for her, and not just moaning out her name. "I'm close…"

___Close to what? _If she wasn't so desperately trying to breathe, she might've asked, although she was pretty sure she had a good idea of what he was referring to. That burning ache…it was as if a coil was being wound tighter and tighter, and soon enough it was going to reach a breaking point.

"I-I think so, too…"

"Please…don't let go…without me…"

At that plea, with his voice almost begging her like that—she felt a swell of emotions, and very nearly just blurted out the truth. But no, she couldn't, ___just couldn't_—better to just lose herself in this pleasure, and forget about everything else, even the consequences that were sure to come later.

"A-Adam, I—"

She didn't even finish the sentence before being hit with an intense wave of pleasure, her entire body seemingly seizing up on its own as she climaxed heavily, nearly blinding her for a few seconds as she could only cling to his shoulders like her life depended on it, faintly aware of something hot filling her as he gasped against the crook of her shoulder.

It took a while before she became aware of her surroundings again, a warm and heavy weight collapsed against her side, his breath warming her neck. Tired, she was so tired it seemed, even compared to after Stone Forest. Noticing her movement, he turned to one side and embraced her closely against his chest, whispering those words that were a promise she could never return, even as she repeated them back.

Everything was a nice, hazy warmth…if only she could just close her eyes and be like this forever…


	11. Chapter 11

The sky wasn't even pink yet before she suddenly awoke, for a second startled at the warmth that was surrounding her, before all the memories rushed back—

_—____the heat, his fingers, the way their bodies seemed to so effortlessly fit…she could only cry out in pleasure because it was all she could feel…_

For some reason the harder she tried to recall those memories, the blurrier they became. One sensation ran into another, until it was nothing more than a jumble of endless pleasure, where she wasn't even sure how long they'd gone on for or what time they'd slept. Still, one thing was for certain.

Her time was up.

Even before she checked her comm, she knew what was waiting for her—a sudden notice, asking her to meet with the heads of command in private as soon as she was available. Well. They certainly weren't being very subtle about it. Perhaps they too, tired of this hide-and-seek game. Slowly, she shifted from his grasp, careful not to wake him—though he was a relatively light sleeper, the events of last night had left him in a state of deep slumber, only turning once as she quietly gathered her clothes and slipped out the door.

"…Sio?" Strange, the bed was awfully spacious for some reason…and not in the way he wanted it to be. His arm reached out, only to touch air. With a start he sat up, glancing at the clock—'07:44'—before noticing her clothes were also missing.

Shit.

Sighing, he wondered, not for the first time, if he'd done something wrong. Or worse still, she'd come to her senses when she came to and regretted it. "God damn it…nice job, Adam…" he muttered to himself, proceeding to find where his clothes had gone to. Of course, there could be a perfectly logical explanation for all this—after all, hadn't it been his false conclusions that had lead them to this admittedly pleasurable event in the first place? ___'Yer thinkin' too far ahead again…for all you know, she could've just wanted to take a shower.'_

Definitely plausible, even likely, and yet he couldn't shake this feeling that something was amiss…even last night, she wasn't exactly herself—and it wasn't just the stress of their fight. He wanted to push her, to find out exactly what was bothering her, but at the time, it didn't seem like a good idea. Still, first things first—get yourself put together, and then find Sio.

That is, if she was still around.

"Miss Nobunagun. We appreciate you making it on such short notice." Glasses glinting, St. Germain ushered the sniper into the darkened room, where the Commander and Dogoo itself were already awaiting.

"…Sure." Should she act surprised? Neutral? Confused? No matter the expression, the outcome would be the same, wouldn't it?

The Commander and interlocutor shared a glance, before turning back towards her. "Miss Nobunagun; ever since you've joined DOGOO, you've performed admirably, and certainly, have increased our strength in the fight against EIOs. However," and here the Commander seemed to pause, almost turning away, before clearing her throat and continuing, "we have noticed…changes, over the course of your time here."

She felt her pulse quicken and her breath grew short. ___'This is it…you know what they're going to say, just brace yourself…'_

"We know for a fact that nearly all e-gene holders eventually experience some form of personality change or dissociation, due to the adjustments in genetic structure—"

___"—I know what you two are capable of, more than you, perhaps—"_

"—while not dangerous, such side effects are still new territory; of course, there are many other factors that contribute to it, including the e-gene's original personality and the holder's own temperament, as well as stress on the field…"

Suddenly, she felt a bubble of anger welling up; although she knew the Commander was just trying to break it to her as gently as possible, but the old woman's words were starting to grind her nerves; they were simply stalling now, trying to make all kinds of excuses for something that wouldn't do anything to change the outcome. Honestly, they should just save their breath.

"—Would you just get to the point already?" As soon as she spoke, Sio gasped and covered her mouth, shocked that she'd blurted out such rude words. Commander Iyo stopped, half in surprise and half in response, while St. Germain and Dogoo looked at her with intense stares. "I-I mean, sorry…I apologize," she bowed low, keeping her eyes to the floor. "I didn't mean to interrupt you, Commander…" What was wrong with her…was this really proving their theory right? That the more she became Nobunagun, the harder it was to separate the two? True, there were times where she would feel the confidence and bold personality slip through, even when not in battle, but not to an extent which anybody had said anything…

___'Or is it because it's been so subtle, that nobody's noticed…'_

Commander Iyo eyed her hard for another second, before nodding. "…That's all right, child. Forgive an old woman's tendency to ramble…" Sio winced and prayed she wouldn't push it any further. "Then, I'll cut to the chase; we feel that, due to the current circumstances of your e-gene's…volatile personality, and the fact that you are a shooter-class holder…it would be best for the time being, if you transferred to the sniping squad, housed on the ___Steven Hiller_."

There it was. The proposal that had become her obsession for the past week…and yet there was nothing quite like hearing it in person. She felt like she was going to pass out, but forced her breathing to remain calm. "I-I see…b-but, Commander, please, there haven't been any issues with my platoon! Has…is someone…"

"It is true that you have a good chemistry with your team; perhaps, too good at times…" Her heart started up its rapid pace again at that subtle hinting, because gods, it was bad enough that she and Jack tended to rain excess carnage on the field together during battle, what would command think if they found out about their fraternization—

"—I-I can, change that…I-I mean, I'm sorry I wasn't aware of this issue earlier, but, do I really need to…ch-change squads?" Desperation, pleading, anything, as long as she could continue to remain by their sides, ___his_ side.

The faces of command stared back her, unreadable, though Sio thought she saw a flicker of pain the old woman's eyes. "…Of course, ultimately, this decision…" a sigh, before the steel cut through the atmosphere, "…we would not want to force this decision on you; however, please understand, that this was not a conclusion made solely by myself, or Dogoo; the entire board took into account all factors, and have come to this as the best course of action."

In short, this meeting was just a mere formality, a pittance so she wouldn't feel like it was entirely out of her hands—but in reality, it seemed like their minds were already made up. Just perhaps, if she could agree to it, then maybe it would be some sort of false justifications for this, this—

"—I-I, I…"

Her 'choice'…it might as well have been a sentencing.

"Oy, have either of you seen Sio?" Ignoring the fact that neither he nor Mirza had even bothered to apologize or try to reach some sort of conclusion about their fight, Adam had immediately sought out the other two members of their platoon, who were currently sitting in an awkward silence at the kitchen table. Startled, the two could only blink at him owlishly, before Newton decided to take pity on him.

"No…what, did you actually talk to her last night or something?" A thin eyebrow raised, though, knowing Jack's personality, he was being entirely serious.

"Somethin' like that…" he muttered, not wanting to get into the intimate details, though he swore Mirza's eyes flickered with a glint of hidden understanding, something only someone like him could read right away. "Look, I'll…I'll tell ya what happened later, I just need to find—"

"—if you're looking for Nobunagun, she's in a private meeting with the higher-ups," a creak of the wheelchair, followed by the semi-retired trainer Robert Capa wheeled into the lounge, helping himself to the tea spread. "You got business with her, kid?"

"Capa…what are you doing on the ___Alex Logan_?" Newton offered the veteran a cup of tea, which he graciously accepted, though all three were wary of his unannounced presence, especially given his status.

"Command wanted to, uh…ah hell, you kids really shouldn't be here, you know…" Sighing, the photographer scratched the back of his head, not sure if he should even spill it or not.

The sinking feeling that had been sitting in the back of his mind since last night was growing stronger, and with Capa's expression, was threatening to turn into a full-blown panic. ___'No, get a hold of yourself Adam, it can't be, it's…it has to be something else…'_

"'Shouldn't be here'? Last time I checked, this was our home, Capa." Oh great. Just what they needed—an encounter with the other platoon that shared this ship, the Princess and her entourage in tow. Though, was it just him, or did the kid Gaudí seem unusually sullen?

"Ah…damn it, I guess there's no point in keeping it in now. It's been kept pretty tightly under wraps though, so I guess I can't blame you guys for being confused." Fiddling with the camera that he always kept in his lap, the veteran turned his attention to the group that was now gathered around the table. "It's about Nobunagun—Command's here, because they…need to break it to her that she's leaving—or more accurately, transferring. They want her to pair with William Tell, so it's off to the ___Steven Hiller _by 1800 hours tonight."

Silence. Dead silence. He could hear nothing but his own heartbeat, which was rapidly increasing to the pace of a machine gun. ___Impossible…there was no way it was true…_ And yet it would explain everything that had happened in the past week—why she was so distracted, her urgency to see Vidocq—because who else among the holders could know what command was up to—

___'—and then you had to be a cunt and push her away when she needed you the most,'_ a nasty little voice in his head reminded him of that…atrocious behavior he'd exhibited when he stumbled upon what, now that he knew, had to have been her somehow digging that secret out of the strategist. Unconsciously his fingers were digging into his fists, squeezing so tightly until he felt the slightest trickle of blood dripping down. Around him, he was barely aware of the murmurs and confused whisperings among the rest of the platoons, all of them just as stunned as he was.

"Yeah. Shit, I'll be honest, I have no idea why command wanted this to be all 'hush-hush'…but you know how it is, orders are orders." For once looking his true age, the old soldier reluctantly steered himself out, no point in sticking around now that he'd effectively just dropped a bomb in their living room.

"W-wait! Hang on, this doesn't make any sense!" Stopping, the old man turned around—of course, Jack would be the one to question this, to go against whatever rules were set. Shaking his head, he nodded towards an empty hallway, obviously not wanting to be interrupted.

"What is it kid; I already told you, the decision's pretty much been cemented," Capa sighed, wondering why the leader of the Second Platoon was so concerned all of a sudden.

"You're here, which means you must know some reason why they're…moving her." Never had there been harder words to spit out, but he had to, had to maintain the calm and leadership role that had he'd somehow grown into since joining DOGOO. "It doesn't make any sense—all holders are assigned based off their initial assessment, if we changed the lineup now, you're pretty much rendering our strategies useless!"

At this point the veteran eyed him with a narrowed gaze. "Strategies? And since when were you so inclined to worry about that, Jack? 'Sides, you've been here long enough—we're a military organization, you know that—if command thinks a change in lineup is necessary, then change it is. Didn't think you'd be the type to get your knickers in a twist over just a single transfer…" The voice trailed off, as his mind, not dulled by age but rather sharpened, started working. "Wait a sec, don't tell me, you and her—"

He couldn't deny it, but to confirm it would pretty much result in an automatic court-martial, or whatever punishment the Commander deemed suitable for fraternizing with one's teammate. Silently, he clenched his teeth, unable to meet Capa's eye.

"…Lord help us." A heavy sigh, though Adam thought he could see a bit of sorrow in the old man's eye. "Please don't tell me you slept with her?" More silence, followed by just the slightest of nods from the silver hair. "Oh shit. Really kid, you two, you—you'd better pray to whatever gods that're left up there that command doesn't find out. That's—it's—you know it's against the rules, Adam. I mean, hell, as if they didn't already have enough of a reason to move her…"

"…I know that…and you know what, I don't give a single fuck," he whispered, suddenly furious at everyone, at the old trainer before him, at the Commander. "Just—what's so wrong with that?! Why's everybody so convinced that if two people get together, it'll screw up th' entire operation?!"

___Was it so wrong to fall in love?_

"Stand down, Jack. You're making a scene…" The older man reprimanded, though there was no steel behind the voice, only weariness. "Look, you're still young—and I'm gonna take a stab and say this was your first real relationship—of course it's gonna seem monstrously unfair. But this world…it doesn't exist solely for you two; you and Nobunagun joined, knowing what the risks were, what the consequences could be. DOGOO formed to protect humanity against the Invasion Objects—we can't run the risk of hinging an entire battle around whether or not two people are gonna be able to perform at 100% efficiency while attempting to deal with their emotions."

All this the boy knew; though of course, at the time, he hadn't given a whit to the words that rabbit-figure was spewing, only just nodding and going along because he knew, that was what they wanted to hear. "But I—we—the missions have been going fine, 's not like we're goin' to screw it up just because—"

"—You ever watch someone you love get killed right in front of ya, kid?" Capa interrupted, the tone going from weary to harsh. "Judging from your words, I'd say no. It's true that the Second Platoon's performing quite well right now—but that's just ___right now. _You can't guarantee that it'll always be like this, that either of you won't one day make some rash decision on the field just for the sake of the other, and put everyone else in harm's way. Trust me, it's easy to say that—'I'll be careful', 'we'll work it out'—but in the end, you'll just end up dragging everybody down with you. And yes, I am speaking from ___personal experience_," he countered before Adam could even get a word in. "After all, how'd you think I ended up in this wheelchair?"

"…I'm sorry." What could he say to that, not when the gruff veteran practically spilled his entire past to him like that, no strings attached? He suddenly felt very childish; powerless to do anything, because in the end, he knew the real reason why he'd joined DOGOO—

—not because he didn't have anything better to do or because it was what they wanted; because deep down, he still had a sense of ___duty_.

"Don't be; what's past is past. I just don't want you young people repeating an old man's mistakes…" the photographer patted the wheels lightly, a faraway look on his face. "Tried to be all heroic on the field once—and what did that get me? Well, it got her killed right in front of me, and the rest of my squad went down as well…sometimes I think the only reason I got away with being a cripple is to repent for my sins by carrying their lives with me…"

The chatter in the hallway was becoming louder now, and he knew both Newton and Gandhi were probably wondering where he and Capa had gone. "You should probably head back, they'll be wondering where you are, Jack."

"…Yeah."

"Jack…no, Adam. Listen, I know you'll probably just brush this off and think of it as flowery bullshit, but trust me," and he forced the boy to look at him, "it's for the best. For everyone's sake." He lingered for just a second longer, before wheeling himself down the corridor.

"Aye aye, sir…"

Was this what it felt like to have the entire world turn against you? To feel that nobody cared and you were a machine, a cog that was supposed to be unfeeling and willing to sacrifice everything for the greater good? Slumping against the wall, he had to sit, the conversation draining everything out of him. E-genes, DOGOO, the Evolutionary Invasion Objects and the AU weapons that were their only hope of fighting them…he closed his eyes and tried to stop the swirl of thoughts that were becoming more and more unwound.

They had said their powers were 'gifts' for humanity, chosen by destiny to defend the Earth—what a joke; they weren't any sort of special, blessed beings—

—they were ___cursed_.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Back to present time, present-tense now.

* * *

___'I-I'm sorry, it was all my fault! I shouldn't have…' _

After that heated discussion with Capa, and Newton and Gandhi giving him questioning looks, he is surprised at Gaudí's sudden 'confession' so to speak, upon his return.

___'…What the hell are yeh talkin' about, twerp?' First Capa and now this, what, did everybody but him know what was going on? Still, the shock of the event was currently subduing his temper, else he might've very well found himself facing off with that smug Princess._ ___'I-it's…just that, I was the one who…told Miss Nobunagun about it…'_ ___What the hell… Around him, everybody else seemed to be thinking the same thing, putting the poor boy in the spotlight._ ___'Th-that day we were going to head back to the A. Logan…I saw the piece of paper in the meeting room, and I couldn't help it—' he sniffled, and suddenly a look of understanding dawned on Geronimo's face._ ___'So that's why you you jumped like a rabbit when we entered…' _ ___The boy nodded, wiping his tears. 'I didn't mean to—but, I…I don't know, I thought, if I told her, maybe something would…change…'_ ___To change something that they had no control in… Adam wasn't sure if it would've been better or worse off if she'd never found out until now. Either way, the events leading up wouldn't change the fate that was now set into motion._

"Heh…how ironic…" The teacup sits there, tea already cold as he finally comes out of his reverie. Gandhi and Newton are equally quiet, the brawl that occurred now seems very insignificant. But this… Hands grip the cup until he hears a slight 'crack', and what liquid remains spills all over the table. Newton automatically moves to wipe it up but he does not, is lost in trying to solve a problem that has no solution. Gandhi meanwhile, moves as if in greeting a newcomer but suddenly stops—

"—Oh. It's you…Vidocq…"

At that name, all his senses start sharpening, and he practically jumps out of his chair and collars the strategist before he can make an exit. Behind him, Newton is about to protest, but surprisingly, Gandhi holds her back.

"…Jack. What can I do for you." To his credit, Vidocq does not falter or lose his cool, though he can sense the fear in his voice; can almost smell it, the way he can sense the base, animal-like terror of the Objects when he slices through them in one swing. He grunts when Adam slams him against the wall, but still, he does not break.

"What d'ya think, bastard?! Her transfer…I know yer partially responsible, aren't you…" His voice drops to that threatening growl, pitched low in the back of his throat that would send lesser beings fleeing. "Why else would you want this to be all secret?"

"…You are right; my opinion was consulted by the board, but ultimately, it was ___their_ move, ___their_final decision, not ___mine_. I only gave them the facts as logically as possible." Vidocq's face is so stoic that for a second he just wants to smash a fist in it, just to see it break, but he restrains himself; no use in incapacitating their only strategist.

"…Then ___why_. The secrecy…whatev'r stupid-ass reason for pairin' her with someone like ___Tell_…" He spits the name out like poison, not that William Tell is a poor fighter or bad person, but just the thought of something that is ___his—Sio—_will now be in the possession of someone else… The beast inside him roars with fury and claws to get out, because it cannot and will not settle for simply walking away and giving up what is rightfully his.

___(You can't have her! She's mine!)_

The blonde attempts to loosen the Ripper's grip on his shirt, but to no avail. "Hmph…because you're proving my point right now. Don't think I can't see it, Jack—how you're just itching to sink your fist into me, to tear me from limb to limb in a bloody rage," and he smirks as the other man's gaze falters, perhaps realizing now for the first time, his own inner savagery. "Miss Nobunagun shares that tendency with you…hell, it's hard to say who's worse, between the two of you… Command wasn't comfortable with that; concluded that William Tell would be a more balanced act."

What the strategist says is true; there is no denying that out of everyone on the Second Platoon, the two of them enjoy fighting the most. "Yeh could've…'f this really was a problem, then how come we weren't informed?" Weren't they the ones who were doing the actual fighting? What did those bigwigs know, just siting in their little meeting rooms all day, pouring over a bunch of useless statistics? The feel, the rush, the synergy when they were all in sync with each other…even if the collateral was more than necessary, they hadn't hurt anybody, and all missions had been a success.

"That part I honestly can't say; all they wanted from me was my factual opinion, and then I was swore to secrecy. Of course, we all know now how well that worked out…" he rolls his eyes, suddenly getting deja vu but this time with the other one. "If I had to guess, I'd say Command wanted this to be as quick as possible, with minimal fuss; like amputating a limb you know, just one, precise stroke."

He doesn't appreciate the analogy, hitting a little too close to his other side that even Vidocq is not aware of, but inside, he is already coming to the conclusion. That in the end, there was no point in telling them—because that decision is not up to them. Just like their ancestors whose genes were harvested…being asked was merely a formality.

In the end, they are all just puppets in the hands of the alien puppeteer. He lets Vidocq go, unsure of what to do now, what to even feel.

"…They're meeting in E-B06. If you hurry, you can probably catch her." Finally free of the death grip, the Frenchman turns around to warn him of the very probable security but he's already gone, feet already taking off the moment he heard the room. "Hn…___imbécile_…" The insult has no weight behind it though, because he is just as tired, tired of all this.

If only it would all end soon.

"My answer…" Should she just give in? Say yes? After all, it is what they want; even if she is to refuse, it's doubtful that they will grant her another option. More likely, they'll tranquilize and forcibly move her, or even force her to resign.

"…I—"

___"—Wait! Sio!" _There is a sound of a scuffle at the door, a guard is trying to stop him but he easily dodges to the side—

_…____It can't be… _

Nothing prepares her for him, for his embrace as he throws all caution to the wind and embraces her from behind, in full view of the Commander and everyone else.

"A-Adam…"

"Don't; please don't…" The grip tightens and his voice is husky in her ear. In front, Commander Iyo seems stunned, but entirely unsurprised at this turn of events. Perhaps she knew all along, what was forming between them. Maybe if she acted earlier…

"___Kirisaki_ Jack. Please, stand down…this is a matter between Command and Nobunagun."

"Like hell it is; y'really thought yeh could jus' take her, and expect us to be fine with it?!" He reminds her very much of a stray dog, neglected and abandoned, suspicious of any kindness…and yet, will defend its most precious thing to the death.

"Don't…leave…"

The entire room is still; she can only hear his breath, that selfish breath, with her own irregular breath. Even with their hand revealed, he does not back down, thought they both know, they are at the mercy of Command.

"…That decision…was not yours to make…Adam…" She waves, and St. Germain and Dogoo both vanish in an instant, this meeting now suddenly becoming off the record. "Sometimes, in order for the benefit of all…sacrifices are necessary. I'd hoped you two would be able to understand that, when you joined DOGOO."

Of course she knows that—but in hindsight, maybe she was just telling herself that she knew then, because who could have predicted all the things that would happen after that? The ideal itself, that is logical; the needs of the many over the needs of the few, what Vidocq strives to live by.

And yet it is utterly useless when applied to something like love.

"As the Commander, I must ask you, Nobunagun, to prepare your belongings and head for the docks by 1400 hours." She steps down now, down the stairs and she is next to them. "But as Iyo…I'm sorry, Sio…" There is regret, she can see it in the old woman's eyes, but at the same time, that battle-worn steel still remains.

She nods dumbly, too numb to speak, even as she hears his breath hitch in her hair and the grip that becomes like a cage, determined to keep her with him.

"And Adam…due to the circumstances, I will overlook your transgressions this one time. Your complete disregard of the rules, the fraternization…they won't be recorded. If you wish to say good-bye, be at the docks by 1400." The Commander leaves and it's just the two of them again, and she lets out the breath she does not even realize she's been holding.

"…Why didn't yeh tell me…say anythin'…" There's hurt in his voice, and she feels the regret pouring out all over again.

"B-Because, I-I, I…" Although she struggles for an answer, the harder she tries, the more she can't find anything. Because she doesn't know—only some unconscious thought that prevented her from saying anything at all. "…What would've been the point…a-and, I was afraid…"

She hears him grind his teeth in anger, and suddenly she's flipped around, face-to-face with him. "Afraid?! Of what, my reaction?" Of course he is angry, anybody would be, finding out a secret like this; she does not blame him in the least.

"…Y-Yes…" His expression drops, and so does her heart. "B-But also, Command…I was scared, that, if they kept this so secret…I-I didn't want us to get in trouble…"

"…'s that why you…slept with me…" She recoils, not at his tone, but the words—that one precious event that shines in a sea of murk, reduced to nothing but a momentary indulgence. "Heh, whatever, I can see—"

"___Chigau! _That's not it…at all…! Y-You can't…what I said last night, I meant it…that no matter what happened, I would never forget, or regret it…" Her lips tremble, but she bites them down. This is not the time for tears, or useless emotions like despair.

He stays silent for a long while, as if trying to process and reconcile with their fates. Just when she is about to pull aside, because she needs to pack soon, he grabs her and she is pushed up against the cold steel of the wall, his lips hungrily consuming hers—

"—Mnn! A-Adam—!" She can't breath, let alone speak, against his relentless attack on her lips, then her neck, the buttons of the uniform scattering over the floor as he literally rips apart her shirt. The heat, his body, everything…her body responds on automatic, already she is wet, the aching throbbing coming back, especially when she feels his hardness pressed against her thigh.

It is entirely wrong, and under normal circumstances would be grounds for instant punishment. However, she no longer cares because what's the point, it's not like she'll be around for much longer anyway. She wills him to take her like this, messy and rough and desperate against the steel frame, screaming his name in toe-curling ecstasy as he comes heavily inside her.

Vaguely, she wonders if the Commander will find out about this tryst, too.

"So…I guess this is goodbye then, Sio-chan…" Gandhi tries to offer her a smile, the only one of the group to do so, but she finds it hard to return. "Take care, okay?" Newton doesn't say much aside from the obligatory well-wishing, and a gives her a kiss on the cheek and a hug that perhaps tells more than her words do. The First Platoon is also there, Geronimo and Cyx polite and cool, but no doubt melancholy in their own way. Gaudí is sniffling into a tissue, but stops crying long enough to give her a heartfelt hug and apologizes once again, even though she has already told him countless times that it's not his fault.

He is last, maybe by coincidence, or maybe because everyone else can sense the mood around the two. She is grateful that they allow them some space, because even if it's obvious by now, it's still technically against the rules.

"…Hey. Listen, I ain't gonna get all sappy on yeh…'fter all, yeh already know, what I feel…" The stone-cold feeling of resignation…and yet a tendril of warmth as he gently touches her face and wipes her tear. "Take care of yourself, 'kay? I mean it, squirt."

She suddenly laughs at that silly nickname, one that used to plague her to no end, and now she is wishing she could keep it. "I will…but, you too Adam…"

"I will."

One last embrace, and a single, careless breath—

"Goodbye."


End file.
